


Natus Ex Invidia

by Area51Fugitive



Series: FMA Villains Week [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: FMA Villains Week, Homunculus is a possessive creep, Multi, Offscreen Violence, Other, Slavery, Xerxes | Cselkcess, and all the awfulness that comes with it, offscreen death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Area51Fugitive/pseuds/Area51Fugitive
Summary: In which envy is born within the Homunculus.





	

That youth was talking to 23, to _Van_ again.  Was it 14?  Homunculus was fairly certain it was 14.  He glared, unseen by both, from his perch near the window.  The two humans ( _glorious golden insects_ ) were laughing about something or other that Homunculus could not hear from his perch, and they were touching one another in a manner that Homunculus could never do even if he were in proximity ( _not as he was now, vaporous and insubstantial and utterly utterly helpless_ ).  14’s hand was on Van’s shoulder, and Van’s own was placed on the other youth’s head.  They were basking in all that Homunculus could not feel and he _hated, hated, hated_.

Not Van ( _never his sacred blood_ ).  But the youth.  14.  _That_ he could hate.  The golden being too far away to determine sex but somehow close enough to determine comeliness.  Wispy hair, gilded and shimmering in the sun, held back by a headband.  Xerxesian reserve abandoned for a short tunic that displayed a flat stomach.  Short pants covered by a split skirt barely longer, leaving lean legs exposed as if scornful of the very idea of modesty.  An excellent body, regardless of sex, and hardly something that such a creature deserved ( _not when Homunculus was forced to barely cling to existence, never allowed to touch_ ).

Homunculus stared and hated.  His hatred almost seemed to be a living thing, a monster, coiled and snarling deep within his depths.  An ugly, desperate, pathetic thing born of seeing another enjoy what Homunculus wanted ( _what Homunculus deserved_ ) yet could not have.   14 laughed, the monster growled.  14 moved with an effortless grace that bordered on dancing, the monster lumbered on ill-formed legs.

It was cruel.  That undeserving little nothing could stand proudly on two legs and command Van’s attention at any time and all Homunculus could do was drift in his flask ( _cage_ ) and _want_.  And yet that free youth was considered a slave while Homunculus was…the foolish alchemist seemed to believe he was a gift from the gods to bring Xerxes into a new enlightenment.  Enlightenment.  What could a human know of enlightenment?  They could barely comprehend the vast knowledge from beyond the Gate of Truth, the knowledge that he was _made_ of.  Only Van Hohenheim could possibly do so, the mortal whose blood had been pure enough to break the veil and give him even this semblance of form.

Homunculus could not wait to share that knowledge with him.

But how could he hope to do so when that… _thing_ was diverting all of his blood’s attention?  Luring him away with ephemeral pleasures like company and gossip when Van could be with _Homunculus_ , learning and gaining vast wisdom.

He wanted 14 _gone_.

Fortunately, dear master alchemist was often a clumsy, forgetful man.  He would often misplace objects and, never one to admit to his own mistakes, would blame it on the nearest slave ( _usually Van, and oh how the dear boy grew to_ loathe _those baseless accusations of idiocy_ ).  As it happened, the misplaced object of the day happened to be a fine red box containing a rare bezoar, extracted from the stomach of a human no less.  Impossibly valuable.   Something that could, perhaps, even buy a slave’s freedom and leave them a person of means even after the fact.

What a shame it would be if a slave were to plan to steal such an object from their kind master, who only rarely had his slaves beaten and who never took advantage of even the most beautiful of his female chattel.  What unfounded disloyalty.

And, oh, the look of disbelief on dear master alchemist’s face when he informed him of the betrayal.  How Homunculus had tried to warn the slave against such folly, how he had been ignored and the bezoar hidden away beneath the table to be spirited away the next time 14 was sent out into town.  Homunculus, being a kind soul, asked for leniency for the wayward youth.  Let him only be killed and not tortured first.  And could poor 23 not be informed of Homunculus’s involvement in the revelation of his friend?  His nerves could be so delicate, and they were connected by their blood.  If 23 was upset too much, it could have an adverse effect on Homunculus ( _the boy could abandon Homunculus for good, and then what would he do_ ).

And like a good puppet, master alchemist believed every word and obeyed, and Homunculus soon heard the fruitless pleas of 14 as the pitiful youth was dragged away to a relatively quick death.  Homunculus’s glee was slightly inhibited by the less pleasing sounds of Van begging for 14’s life, insisting that there had to have been a mistake.  A loud _whap_ from the strike of a hand and the pleading stopped.  Homunculus felt a small twinge of…something ( _what was that, guilt?_ ) before he quickly stifled it.

Homunculus heard a brief scream followed by a loud _snap_ and sudden silence.  Ah.  Hanging, then.  As much as the monster within his depths wanted the troublesome 14 to _suffer_ , Homunculus resigned himself to be satisfied with that.  Quick, easy, his problem was gone.

Van soon stumbled into the lab, a fresh bruise growing on his cheek and tears flowing down his face.  The slave lurched over to where Homunculus was kept and picked up his flask, hugging it close to his chest.

“They killed 14.  14 didn’t do anything, I know it, but they still…they—!”  The boy broke down into helpless sobs and kneeled on the floor, clutching Homunculus’s flask ever tighter.  Van’s tears fell on to the flask and Homunculus longed to feel them.  He imagined they were soft.

“Shh,” Homunculus soothed, “I know.  I’m here.”

And he always would be.  They were bound, Van and he.  By blood and by circumstance both; a bond stronger than any forged of iron or bronze.  He would bring Van with him when he ascended, and give his blood a crown of red roses and white lilies fairer than any diadem the Kings and Queens of Xerxes ever wore.  And for himself, perhaps blue hydrangea.  It would look marvelous on golden hair ( _and he would, of course, have golden hair;_ Van’s _golden hair_ ).  Homunculus would dress himself in the robes of the King and stand over a kingdom he forged with his own power.  And Van would stand beside him.

And nothing would ever come between them again.

**Author's Note:**

> Until Homunculus's slaughter of all of Van's people that is.
> 
> You'll notice that I'm using "Van" as Hohenheim's first name rather than as a preposition to his last name (like "von" in German), as it usually would be in our world. This is because I think that's how it is in the manga. He doesn't have any other names (aside from Theophrasus Bombastus but those got canned when Van thought it was too long to remember), so why not. It's not as if it's a Dutch or German name in-universe anyway. Xerxes is more of an alternate Achaemenid Empire with a dash of ancient Greece, so different naming conventions. I'm writing this explanation because it usually drives me bonkers when someone uses "Van" or "Von" as if they are the character's first names even if in the universe in question it should really be only the prepositions to their last names (looks at certain fics featuring various versions of Van Helsing that use "Van" as his first name) and I didn't want to be a hypocrite by doing it here without justifying myself.
> 
> The flower crowns at the bottom have a purpose, I swear. Red roses and white lilies really do have special connotations in alchemical sybolism. White flowers in general symbolize silver (and therefore the moon, the white queen, the feminine, the soul, the albedo stage of the Magnum Opus, quicksilver, etc) and white lilies really amp up the symbolic meaning. White lilies are also often used as funerary flowers, so there's a bit of more sinister symbolism going on there, what with the final fate of Xerxes. Red flowers on the other hand represent gold and all of ITS symbolism (the sun, the red king, the masculine, the body, the rubedo stage of the Magnum Opus, sulphur, etc) and red roses are the epitome of that in the same way that white lilies are the epitome of white flowers, and on top of that roses represent wisdom and spiritual rebirth after material death (which, again, a bit more sinister meaning knowing what Homunculus plans). And, of course, combining the gold and silver, sun and moon symbolism has great importance in alchemical meaning as being balance, perfection, the pinnacle of the Magnum Opus, etc. As for Homunculus, blue flowers in alchemy represent the flowers of the wise that grow from the Cosmic Egg, which makes sense given what he thinks of himself, and hydrangeas in flower symbolism represent vanity and indifference, which makes sense given what he really is. And I put way too much thought into Homunculus's little fantasy with silly little flower crowns, didn't I?


End file.
